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Rated: 18+ · Other · Drama · #1698975
Gods on holiday
New Beginnings

So there we have it
Death
It comes to us all

The little old man sat in the church of his choice and prayed to the god of his choice.
Was he asking for forgiveness, for salvation, for sainthood, who knows?
He was asking for something though.
This little old man had just returned from his doctors.
His Doctor had given him his results from his recent blood tests and had told him that he now only had 2 months to live.

This little old man, now knowing that he was on the way out, (Heavenwards hopefully) decided to find out what it was all about. So he started praying.

He went to his local church and prayed and he continued to pray as he travelled on the trains and he continued to pray as he travelled on the busses. This little old man even prayed as he sat on the bench in the park.

This was his prayer
“Why me oh Lord, Why Me”
No answer was forthcoming.
This little old man went on praying and eventually, as he was sitting on a bench in the local park, he was listened too by a passer by.

“Its no good, you asking for forgiveness chap, you need to be praising the Lord, that’s how it works”.
The little old man, looked at the stranger and taking him at his word started to praise the Lord.
“I Praise you Lord” spake he, as he praised away Heavenwards and also at nothing but the world in general.

This praising continued for sometime and all came to nothing, or did it.

On a Monday Morning at 0900 the little old man decided that he had had enough of praising a God that he could not see and so he decided to see if he could encourage people to praise himself instead. So it was, that on this Monday Morning, that the little old man set himself up as a god.
“All praise me,” he shouted as he stood at the top of the bandstand “All praise me and let me live” and to be fair, a few people stopped and actually started to praise him.
“All praise the little old man,” they shouted. And so it was that he was praised.

Some months later after the little old man had passed on to the next world, as he sat on his cloud, he heard the cries of the chosen few, who had chosen him as their god.
“All praise the little old man” came the chant.
The little old man looked down on his followers and laughed as he thought “Why do you praise me, its your lives and your afterlives, I will smile on you as much as I can but it is all up to you really, get on with it”

The little old man was praised so much that he eventually went on to join the council of gods and as they sat and smoked their cigars after the last supper that they had been served, conversation turned towards, mortals that prayed towards them.

“I am fed up with all this praise” came the voice of the one god
“It’s bloody annoying” came the voice of the other one god.
“Why am I praised all of the time, I don’t understand it”.
“Me neither, I could do with a holiday”.

Aside

“Well praise me” spake Pete “Duds brought me a pint”
“What’s so strange about that then? “ asked Dud as he placed the pints of ale onto the table.
“Well you are usually the first in the pub but the last to the bar” came Pete’s reply.
“You are a fine one to talk” spake Dud, “They call you “crime”, you know”
“Why so?”
“Crime doesn’t pay”
Pete sipped on his ale and said, “Well Praise me”
“Yes” replied Dud “people used to praise me all of the time you know”
“When and why was that then?” asked Pete.
“I was on the telly, you know and received letters of praise all of the time, some even asked for marriage. Some wanted me to cure incurable diseases, some even asked for money”
“I would think that the ones with the incurable diseases had more chance than the ones that asked for money. Mind you, “Spake Pete “ I was praised too as I too was on the telly”
“What did you receive in your praises then” asked Dud.
“Oh, I received some really smutty praises, mostly from little old women”
“I suppose, sexual favours were involved Pete” asked Dud with a knowing nod as he sipped at his ale.
“Sexual favours were quite common chap but some simply praised me because they wanted to live for ever”
“I don’t know why they were praising you then” spake Dud.
“Me neither” came the reply “I think they just get a little desperate as they get older”
“Hmm, me too, did they also ask for forgiveness chap”
“Some did, but most just wanted to live with me and praise me all of the day”
“Blimy, that would get you down, just imagine” Spake Dud “You have a few beers one night and all of these people start knocking on the door to your cloud, so you answer it and being a good guy, you invite them all in and offer them a drink but them being religious, turn the drink down and so you are left drinking your ale on your own as they settle down to an evening of praising you”.
“Mind you” spake Pete, “There is a lot to be said for drinking alone, it costs less for a start”
“So you sit there drinking your ale” spake Dud “and all of these religious people just sit there praising you as you get more and more drunk. So after an hour or two of praising you take yourself off to bed and have a good kip. Only to find that as you wake up half way through the night as you take yourself off to the toilet that the buggers are still there praising you”.
“What would you do then?” asked Pete.
“Well I would get a few tinnies out of the fridge and go and sit on the cloud at the end of the garden, anything for a little piece is what I say”.
“I can understand that chap, all of this praising is getting out of hand”.
“That’s right Pete” spake Dud “everyone wants to praise you and then they expect results, I mean what can I do, I am just a minor god, I cant help them live for ever”
“You are the god of minors, you say,” asked Pete.
“I mean that I am a small god,” replied Dud.
Pete, who stood 6 feet tall. Looked at Dud and said “Aha”
As these two dead people continued on with their conversation the story continued and unfolded…………………..

…………….
So it was that the council of Gods organised a holiday to the sunny wilds of Clacton - on – Sea.
There they sat, all of the old Gods and a few of the newer minor Gods that had joined them, including the little old man.
The beach was very busy and being on the East Coast was quite cold and windy, but the gods and their invited guests did not notice this as they were sitting in a parallel universe and anyway they were dead and so their blood did not feel the cold.

The older Gods being somewhat insecure and jealous always brought a few guests with them, these new souls were always welcome as they were still intent on the old praising business and so kept the moral of the older Gods high.

So it was that as a God sat on a rock and listened as he was praised that another God spake. “Are you coming for a swim Eric”?
“No” spake The God called Eric, “I am too busy enjoying all of this praising”.
“Suit yourself then” spake the other God as he picked up his surfboard and ran towards the sea his robes all a flapping.
“You wont find any waves here Charlie” called out yet another God “This is after all Clacton – on – Sea”.
However as the Gods watched, the God known as Charlie, shouted out a command as he threw down his surfboard into the sea and dived upon it.
And as he landed upon his surfboard, a great big wave carried him off into the sea.
“Look at him go” shouted one God to another, “I must try this” and he two picked up a surfboard and ran towards the sea. This other God threw down his surfboard and then dived aboard as he made a command for waves but just as he landed the surfboard disappeared and the God went headfirst into the sea.
The other Gods all roared with laughter (except for Eric, who was still enjoying his praising), as the God came up for air.
The God known as Charlie had stopped in mid wave and stood aboard his surfboard as he looked towards the wet God standing in the sea and laughed.
“Laugh at me will you Charlie” spake Don the God of wetness “Well laugh at this” he said as he made a command that sent another big wave crashing into the God known as Charlie.
The God known as Charlie went flying into the water and then popped up his head and shouted out for help, “I cant swim” spake he.
“Lifeguard, lifeguard” shouted out Don, “somebody help him”
“But he is a God” spake out the little old man God.
“Bugger, he nearly had me fooled then” said Don and as he returned his stare to where the God known as Charlie should have been. The God known as Charlie poured a bucket full of seawater filled with crabs over his head.
“Ahhh” and “aiiih” and “shiver” went Don the God of wetness and as he shivered he made a command under his breath that called into being a mini tornado that sucked up the God known as Charlie into the air.
The God known as Charlie not to be out done made a command of his own and a couple of lightning bolts shot down from the sky and scorched Don the God of wetness’s bottom.
As these two Gods continued to fight, the people in the real world started to drift off home because of the weather.

“Is it always like this” asked the little old man.
“Always, they always have to spoil it, they are like children those two. Well I for one have had enough” and so it was that Eric the God of peace lost his temper and him being one of the oldest Gods spake the words that calmed the two fighting Gods.

Both Don the God of wetness and The God known as Charlie were frozen in time until they learned the error of their ways.

“Is that wise to freeze these two Gods” asked the little old man.
“It is the way of thing” replied Eric, Whilst they are frozen all of their followers prayers come to me, this in turn strengthens my position, so as I am always a little stronger than them after all some one has to remain calm and in charge of things.

“I never thought that the after life would be like this” said the little old man.

Eric smiled at the little old man, “Its not always like this chap, but even gods need a holiday, somewhere to let of steam so to speak. After all it would be bloody boring just listening to all of this praising day in and day out, don’t cha think.
“You do have a point chap,” replied the little old man.

“Come on chap, let’s get back to heaven. I will buy you a drink in the cloud bar.

So there you have it
Death
It comes to us all
But sometimes you meet a chap who will buy the first round.



© Copyright 2010 George Dixon (o595 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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